The Breadbasket
by Ayla Pascal
Summary: Teddy had always wanted to run a bakery. After all, what could be better than spending his entire day around scrumptious chocolate éclairs and strawberry buns? Teddy/Draco


Author Notes: Thank you to aigooism for the beta!

Five weeks after his thirty-third birthday, Teddy calmly finished off the last item on his list, completed his paperwork, said goodbye to his assistant who gave him a rather odd look (later, Teddy learnt that she thought he was being a bit melodramatic about his presentation at the monthly section meeting), and tied his resignation letter to Oscar's leg. He reached over to give Oscar a pat on the head, but Oscar simply hooted at him and flew away. Equally calmly, Teddy began packing away his belongings into a cardboard box he had brought in for this very purpose. Undoubtedly, Oscar would have made his way to Wentworth's office by now. Wentworth was probably looking through his letter this very minute; Teddy could imagine his bushy eyebrows rising and rising until they buried himself in the folds of his forehead.

Wentworth was _old_. There were rumours that he had been employed at the Ministry since before Albus Dumbledore was born. At least, Teddy hadn't seen him move from the corner office (the one with the slightly nicer view of the park, rather than the view of the Ministry cafeteria) since he had arrived to work here as an intern over thirteen years ago. Wentworth was probably _born_ middle-management, Teddy thought as he hovered over his wastepaper basket. Should he take his stapler? He had become awfully fond of his stapler over the years. It had the best anti-jamming charms and consequently only jammed once a week. The other staplers he had ordered (especially the Muggle ones) found themselves hard-pressed to staple together fifty pages of parchment. With a slightly furtive look around him, Teddy put the stapler in his cardboard box.

There, that was almost everything, wasn't it?

Teddy fully planned to be out of the Ministry building before Wentworth found out about his resignation. It wasn't as though he hated his job. There was nothing to hate about being the Executive Officer to the Deputy Secretary of Strategic Magical Planning. The problem was that there was nothing to like about the job either. Teddy usually put in forty hour weeks (sometimes it was sixty, but it wasn't as though he had a family to go home to, so Teddy put up with it) and six day weeks. It was a crawl to the top, but it had to be worth it. After all, everybody else was aiming for it. Surely, the view was better up there?

Teddy's lips twitched. He had been beginning to doubt the propaganda for some time now. His bosses didn't look any happier than he did; they looked decidedly less happy after having one of their rich corporate lunches, complete with indigestion as a free extra. Did he want to be like Wentworth in a hundred or so years?

"No," Teddy said firmly.

His assistant poked her head into his office and gave him a startled look.

"Go back to your work, Marion," Teddy told her and watched her walk away. Briefly he wondered whether he should have let her in on his plans. She was probably going to bear the brunt of Wentworth's anger when he made his way down here from the ninetieth floor. Too late now though. He was packed up and ready to leave. In any case, he had never really liked her much. There was something about her that spelled career civil servant. She was always harping on him to finish his minutes in a timelier manner.

Teddy took his wand out of his pocket and waved it over the box, which immediately shrank to the size and weight of a walnut. This was going to be his last day as a Ministry lackey. Tomorrow was a brighter future. Gone were the days of climbing up the Ministry ladder, inch by painful inch. Gone were the days of briefs and minutes. Gone were the days of organising committee meetings only to find out that they needed a working group to support the committee. Gone were the days of Teddy Lupin, Executive Officer to the Deputy Secretary of Strategic Magical Planning.

Tomorrow was a new, better, more raisin-filled day.

Teddy frowned.

No, tomorrow was a new, better, more chocolate-filled day. He never particularly liked raisins. His bakery had to have raisins, but he definitely wasn't going to specialise in them. Now, chocolate was something he could specialise in though.

Tomorrow, he was going to be Teddy Lupin, owner of Establishment Number 86 in Hogsmeade, soon to be the best bakery in wizarding England. 

* * *

><p>Establishment Number 86 looked a bit more decrepit in person than it did on Wizarding Properties (a renovator's dream, the advertisement had boasted). Teddy had visited before signing the purchase papers, but he could have sworn that there hadn't been so much peeling paint. And surely, the floor hadn't been <em>that<em> dusty? The real estate agent had said that the shop previously sold fabric and cushions, but had unfortunately gone out of business a few months back. ("Of course, your bakery sounds like a marvellous idea," the agent had gushed. "I've always said we needed something like that in Hogsmeade.")

With a shake of his head, Teddy surveyed the shop. It needed some serious work. The walls needed a new coat of paint, the carpet needed to be pulled up and the faded sign proclaiming _Fabric Central_ needed to be replaced. And that was just for starters.

Still, it was in a nice central location. That was the most important thing. Teddy had been spending the last few years learning home improvement charms. They were exhausting, but cheaper than paying other people to do it. He'd spent most of his savings on the shop itself. It was a gamble, but Teddy had spent his entire life playing it safe. If he had stayed at the Ministry, he would have had a steady job for life. For some people, being bored out of their minds would have been a minor sacrifice for job security. Teddy didn't understand folks like that. Life was for _living_ and to live, people needed to take risks.

Looking around the room, Teddy had to admit that, perhaps, he had taken a slightly bigger risk than he should have. Then again, he had been due to take a big risk on something. He hadn't done anything even remotely risky for over five years, unless he counted handing briefs in late to Wentworth. People who had seen Wentworth yelling at hapless employees usually thought that angering Wentworth was very risky behaviour, but Teddy was used to it. He usually smiled, apologised, and listened to the diatribe.

In any case, the shop wasn't _that_ bad. Most of it could be fixed up by those home improvement charms he'd learned. The rest would need some serious elbow grease, but he had plenty of time for that. It wasn't as though he had a job now or anything.

Teddy was in a rather optimistic frame of mind when he yanked open the cellar door. Immediately, he stepped backwards and coughed into his hands. What in Merlin's name was that horrible smell? It smelled like somebody had died in there. Teddy bit his lip and took a step forward. As he peered into the small room, Teddy let out a sigh of relief. It was empty. Except for the smell, of course. Hurriedly, Teddy slammed the door shut, which helped somewhat, but it was one of those smells that seemed to permeate the air. It was worse than the time he had left a bag of rubbish under his bed for an entire term. It was even worse than some of the bathrooms at Hogwarts.

"Urgh," Teddy muttered as he took a few steps backwards.

Teddy did know a few deodorising spells. He wouldn't have made it through his teenage years without them. Of course, they were designed for armpits, not for rooms, but it certainly couldn't hurt to use one, or two, or his whole arsenal.

It was with trepidation that Teddy took out his wand, held his breath, and wrenched the door open again. Letting his breath out, Teddy waved his wand and said the spell. The entire room seemed to glisten for a few seconds. Hesitantly, Teddy inhaled and then immediately closed the door again. His stomach churned.

He was wrong.

Very wrong.

The deodorising spell managed to make the room smell like flowering rotten garbage. It was just his luck that the spell seemed to be more of a perfume spell rather than a proper deodorising spell.

Teddy glared at the closed door before turning around and walking away. There was plenty of time for him to deal with the nasty smell. And if he couldn't figure out a way to eliminate the smell... well, there was always the option of sealing the door closed. 

* * *

><p>Teddy was glad when his home improvement spells went better than his deodorising spell. The old, slightly mouldy carpet had been pulled up and replaced with tiles. The walls were now a bright crisp shade of cream and all the dust had been vanished. The smell in the cellar was almost gone as well. Unfortunately, all the work he had done on it only highlighted how much work was to come. He needed to build up a proper kitchen with a big oven. There needed to be a counter to display the cakes, muffins, and other various goodies on. And that was only the essentials. Teddy envisaged that his bakery would sell coffee and fresh juices as well.<p>

Still, he was getting there.

Teddy pursed his lips and surveyed the room. He hoped that he would have got more done in the last few weeks, but home improvement spells were exhausting. He had almost collapsed several times. Teddy had found himself eating almost twice as much as his usual amount for the last week or so; powerful spell casting always made him hungry. It had taken him almost three days of continuous deodorising spells, baking soda, and various Muggle sprays to get rid of most of the smell inside the cellar.

A knock on the door shook Teddy from his thoughts. He walked over to the door and unlocked it. Standing on the doorstep was a little old lady in flowery robes. "Hi," Teddy said slowly. "Can I help you? Sorry, but we're not open yet."

"I know that," she said sharply.

Teddy blinked rapidly. He had expected her demeanour to be softer, like a muffin. Instead, she was more like a crusty day-old roll. "So why are you here?" The words escaped his lips before he could stop them.

To his surprise, her lips twitched, almost as though she was about to smile, but stopped herself at the last second. "I work a few doors down. I wanted to see what kind of person would be idiotic enough to buy this shop," she said.

Teddy raised an eyebrow. She was certainly honest. "Now you've met him. But I wouldn't call myself an idiot."

"I take it you haven't met the poltergeist yet," she told him. "Most people who meet him decide to sell this shop within a few weeks. The rest just run away."

A poltergeist? Teddy struggled to keep his features calm. The real estate agent definitely hadn't mentioned anything about a poltergeist. They weren't usually dangerous, but they were annoying little buggers. They tended to refuse to leave a place and always caused a good deal of havoc. From what he knew of them, Peeves tended to be rather tame. "No, I haven't met him yet."

"I can see that you don't believe me," she said calmly. "I do wish you luck though. It would be nice to have a bakery here."

Teddy smiled tightly. "I hope you come and visit when we're open. And tell your friends and customers to come and visit as well."

She nodded. "I'll see you around."

Teddy watched as she turned around and walked away. Her bright robes were incongruous against the rather dusty street; it had been a windy day. He made a face and then shut the door. A poltergeist? That was ridiculous. If there was a poltergeist here, he would have seen or felt something by now. The old lady was probably crazy. 

* * *

><p>Over the next few days, Teddy kept on feeling a prickling sensation at the back of his neck. Sometimes he felt like somebody was watching him, but he always shook it off. There was nobody here. He was just tired. There couldn't be a poltergeist here. Especially since everything was coming together really well. He had got people in yesterday to install the oven and counter. Right now, other than being really empty, it was starting to look like a real bakery.<p>

Teddy was in the middle of mixing up a batch of chocolate biscuits when one of the pots he had hung up on the wall fell down with a clatter. Frowning, he noticed that the nail was still firmly in the wall. There was no reason for the pot to have fallen. Teddy picked the pot up and stared at it for a few seconds before hanging it back on the wall. It was that old woman's fault. Before she had knocked on the door, he hadn't seen anything unusual about this place other than the terrible smell in the cellar. Now, he was jumping at tiny things.

What he needed was a batch of biscuits, Teddy decided. He always loved chocolate biscuits. When he was younger, his aunt Ginny had always baked him chocolate biscuits with chopped up walnuts inside. They always came out of the oven all warm and melted, and invariably, everybody ended up devouring them before they cooled. As Teddy spooned the mixture onto the tray, he couldn't help but lick the spoon.

"Yum!"

Teddy jumped. His heart pounded as he spun around. "Who's there?" He didn't like the quaver in his voice. "Show yourself!"

There was silence.

Teddy brandished the spoon in front of him. "I heard you," he said. "You said 'yum!' So don't pretend that you're not there." This couldn't be a poltergeist, could it? How many poltergeists liked cookies? It was probably some kid who had snuck into the kitchen. Of course, there was nowhere in the kitchen for a kid to hide, but that wasn't important.

"Fine," the voice said, sounding long-suffering. "As long as you promise not to scream or faint or anything like that."

"I won't," Teddy snapped.

Teddy looked around. He wasn't sure what he was expecting. Maybe it was a poltergeist. Maybe it was something else. He squinted as he saw a shape coalesce in mid-air in front of him. As the shape became fully visible, Teddy's eyes widened.

"I thought you said you weren't going to faint on me."

"I'm not going to faint," Teddy said. His voice sounded far away, even to him. He held onto the counter to steady himself.

"You're looking awfully pale though."

Teddy swallowed. He thought he had a good reason for looking pale. It wasn't every day that he saw somebody he knew appear as a ghost in front of him. Well, poltergeist, Teddy realised. Ghosts couldn't interact with the world around them and the pot had definitely fallen from the wall. "Ah, that would be because..." Teddy trailed off as he suddenly realised something. Even semi-transparent, there was no mistaking that flaming red hair. And it would figure that this particular person would come back as a poltergeist, not an ordinary ghost. "Would you be Fred? Fred Weasley?"

The poltergeist grinned. "Got it in one."

"Ah," Teddy said faintly as he turned back to his work. He really needed to process this before he felt up to talking to this particular poltergeist.

Five minutes later, once the biscuit mixture had been spooned out on trays and the trays had been placed in the oven, Teddy sat down on a chair and pressed his fingers against his temples. Fred was still floating in the same place, looking down at him with a rather bemused expression. "You do rather like your baking, don't you?"

Teddy narrowed his eyes. "That's why I started a bakery."

"Touché," Fred said as he leaned backwards and crossed his arms. There was no mistaking the glint in his eyes. Teddy had seen a similar expression in George's eyes several times over the years. Usually it was following a prank (George never seemed to grow up, except for a period of about three years when he was married – but that little domestic experiment was now over), but one time it was after Teddy had woken up in bed with him. It was almost as though George had known what Teddy was about to say even before the words were out of Teddy's mouth. Teddy took care never to drink quite _that_ much again during any Ministry fundraiser.

"So," Teddy said once it became obvious that Fred wasn't going to say anything, "how long have you been haunting this shop?" There were a million other questions dancing their way across the top of his mind, but this was the most obvious one.

Fred stared at him. "Ever since I died."

"Right," Teddy said. "Stupid question, right?" Ghosts and poltergeists rarely moved haunts. They could visit other places, but there was always somewhere they tended to prefer. Briefly, Teddy wondered why Fred had chosen to haunt this particular shop.

"I would have thought you a smarter bloke than that," Fred agreed as he wafted down and perched himself on the edge of the bench. "I've been watching you for the past few days and I think your bakery idea is brilliant. This is the perfect shop for it. It was a sweet shop years and years ago; I used to love visiting it when I was a kid. I think that's why I've been stuck here."

Teddy raised an eyebrow. "Thank you, I think." He wasn't sure that was much of a rousing endorsement from a man who a) started Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes and b) was dead.

"WWW was the third most successful shop in Diagon Alley last year." Fred grinned. "I keep up-to-date on the news." He gave Teddy a speculative look. "And gossip."

Teddy could feel faint colour rising in his cheeks. "So does George know you spy on him?" he demanded.

"Of course he does." Fred looked affronted as he sank down to hover over a chair. "We share _everything_. We're twins. He likes it when I watch, you know?"

Teddy stared until Fred burst out laughing.

"Naw, just kiddin'," Fred told him looking amused. "George doesn't know. Nobody knows except the previous owners of this shop."

"And now me," Teddy pointed out.

"Yeah..." Fred gave him a measured look that made Teddy feel uncomfortable. "You're an odd bloke, you know? Quitting a well-paying Ministry job to come to this dump to bake cookies and ice cakes like an old woman."

Teddy bridled. "I'll have you know that bakeries are very profitable businesses. And I won't have you ruining The Breadbasket."

Fred looked shocked. "Now who said anything about ruining? I'm going to _help_ you, Theodore Lupin."

Oh joy. Teddy could barely keep the look of horror off his face. The very last thing he needed was a poltergeist helping him. Poltergeists were notoriously unpredictable creatures. Unlike ghosts, poltergeists could interact perfectly with the physical world around them. They wreaked havoc. Poltergeists had invaded a museum in Ireland and it had ended up being shut down. And that was just an ordinary poltergeist. This was _Fred Weasley_. "Thank you for your kind offer," he began cautiously. "But I have everything under control."

Fred beamed at him. "Oh, you don't have a choice about this," he said cheerfully. 

* * *

><p>One of Teddy's favourite creations was a deliciously moist and decadent chocolate cake. It was going to be one of his specialities. Unfortunately, the time and effort that went into baking one took up at least several hours, but it was worth it to smell the delicious sweetness wafting from the oven.<p>

Fred shot a rather wistful look towards the oven, but thankfully stayed silent.

Teddy licked his lips as he looked around to take in the rest of the shop. Everything was ready for his grand opening tomorrow. The chocolate cake was going to be the centrepiece of his display and he was going to give away little chocolate macaroons for all customers on the first day. He had everything planned down to the last pastry, including the advertisements he had taken out in _The Daily Prophet_ and _The Quibbler_. There was a giant banner rolled up under the counter that was ready to be displayed outside the shop.

"Good luck."

Teddy could barely keep the look of surprise off his face. "Thanks," he said quietly. After demanding to be part of Teddy's business (it wasn't as though Teddy could actually _stop_ him), Fred had been awfully quiet for the last few days. To be honest, it made Teddy nervous. A quiet Weasley, in his opinion, was never a good thing. Of course, he had never actually seen George Weasley be quiet for more than a few minutes.

Fred waved his hand. "Sometimes I wish I could still taste food." There was a melancholy note in his voice that Teddy had never heard before.

Teddy hesitated before pointing at the cake. "Do you want to... y'know... try to float through that?"

A brief smile passed over Fred's face. "I already tried that."

"Oh." Teddy wasn't sure what he wanted to make of that. On one hand, the idea of Fred floating randomly through his baked goods didn't really appeal to him. On the other hand, he didn't know what Fred was going through. He couldn't imagine never tasting a pastry or a muffin or a slice of chocolate cake again.

"Don't s'pose you could leave it to go rotten?" Fred asked. "I can almost taste food if it's rotten."

"No," Teddy said flatly as he turned back to icing his cake. No matter how much sympathy he felt, there was no way he was going to leave rotten food around his shop. 

* * *

><p>The opening day was successful. Not astoundingly successful, unfortunately, but reasonably successful. Teddy had considered getting people to help him in the bakery, but he decided against it. He wanted this to have the feel of a small family-owned bakery; the only problem was that he didn't really have family to come and help him. That and the fact Teddy didn't really have money to pay any staff.<p>

The only black spot in Teddy's day was when Draco Malfoy decided to stop by and buy a muffin. Over his years at the Ministry, Teddy's path had crossed Draco's several times and almost every time, Teddy found himself feeling as though he had just lost the battle. There was the time Teddy was going for a promotion, but at the last minute, he realised that he would be working directly for Draco so pulled out of the running. There was another time when Draco had demanded something from their department. The job had fallen squarely in Teddy's lap. Fortunately, as a politician, Draco rarely had the chance to interact directly with Teddy, a fact that made Teddy very glad.

"One chocolate muffin and one strawberry muffin," Teddy said as he handed both muffins across. "I'm glad you chose to stop by."

Draco looked around the shop and then raised an eyebrow. "Not as busy as I would have thought," he drawled.

"You just missed the crowd," Teddy lied.

From the smirk on Draco's face, it was obvious he knew the truth. "It really is too bad that you quit the Ministry," Draco said. "Your replacement is quite incompetent."

"You told me the same thing five years ago," Teddy pointed out. "I'm sure you'll grow to like my replacement as much as you liked me."

Faint colour rose in Draco's cheeks. "Quite possible," he agreed. He looked around the shop. "I wish you luck in this endeavour."

"Thank you," Teddy said stiffly. "I hope you have a nice day."

From the brief twitch of Draco's lips, he knew a dismissal when he heard one. "I'll see you around," Draco said as he opened the door and stepped outside. The door closed behind him. 

* * *

><p>Draco ended up being almost a daily fixture at The Breadbasket. Some days, he bought an éclair or a pastry. Other days, he ordered an entire cake or basket of muffins. Teddy wondered if Draco had a family to feed at home, but he doubted it. Draco might have been attractive (very attractive, if Teddy wanted to admit it to himself), but his personality wasn't exactly welcoming. Somehow, Teddy couldn't imagine Draco with a wife and a few kids.<p>

"Sodding prat," Teddy muttered to himself.

"He's a good customer," Fred pointed out. "In fact, he's one of your best customers."

As much as Teddy hated to admit it, Fred was right. "Still doesn't mean I have to like seeing his face around here."

Fred gave him an odd look. "You're quite similar, you know."

It wasn't the first time Teddy had heard that particular comparison, but somehow, from Fred, it rankled more. They had been getting along reasonably well lately. Why in Merlin's name did Fred have to go and spoil it? "He's a politician," Teddy grumbled. "I'm nothing like him."

Fred shrugged. "He might be a better businessman."

Teddy gritted his teeth as he mashed up nuts for his coconut, walnut, and chocolate brownie. There was absolutely nothing wrong with his business skills. All new shops had to go through a period like this when they built up their customer base. A little voice at the back of his mind reminded him that most new shops tended to go out of business within six months, but Teddy clamped down on the voice. It had only been less than a month for The Breadbasket. Surely business was going to pick up soon. Everybody who tasted his products raved about them.

"Still wish I could taste one of those muffins," Fred said with a sigh. "One of those apple and date ones. They look so deliciously moist with a big fat date in the middle."

Almost spitefully, Teddy walked over to the muffin tray and grabbed one of the muffins. Walking back, he bit into it and savoured the still-warm muffin. "Yummy," he said as he looked over at Fred pointedly.

Fred stared at him for a second before chuckling. "Okay, mate, I probably deserved that. You know I want this place to succeed. After all, if you leave, the next people to move in will probably want to sell something ridiculous like bird seed or curtains."

Teddy swallowed his mouthful of muffin. Fred _had_ been helpful over the last few weeks, almost like some sort of guardian angel, but more annoying. Unfortunately, he hadn't managed to help in the business side of things, but he had come up with plenty of ideas for new baked goods. It was his idea of having a cupcake that sang happy birthday. That particular item had sold really well. Still, Teddy had a feeling that having brilliant menu items wasn't enough. He needed something more, but he just wasn't sure what it was.

Things had to get better, Teddy told himself. He hadn't abandoned a perfectly good (if incredibly boring) career to become destitute. 

* * *

><p>Over the next few weeks, Teddy had even fewer customers than normal. His regulars still came, but there were no new customers. He simply didn't have enough regulars to keep this up for long. He couldn't figure out why. His baked goods were next to none; that explained why the regulars kept on coming.<p>

"You should get some help," Fred suggest helpfully. "More money would be good."

Teddy squinted. Fred currently seemed to be floating about the rafters. "I'm doing fine," he said stubbornly. "More than fine."

Fred wafted down and hovered over Teddy's transaction book. "The way I see it, mate, you're barely making breakeven." He pointed a ghostly finger at the totals column. "George wasn't very good at numbers either, so I always did our finances."

"I'm perfectly good at numbers," Teddy snapped. It was true. He was excellent at numbers. Unfortunately, that meant that his mind agreed vigorously with what Fred was saying. The Breadbasket was in trouble. Serious trouble. Between the remnants of the bad smell from the cellar and Fred's whispered advice that made him constantly jumpy, Teddy thought he might have enough money to keep the shop open for another month. Maybe two. Then, after that, he probably had enough money to continue to feed himself for a few months.

"Then you should know what I'm talking about," Fred said rather smugly.

Teddy glared at him.

"You had three customers yesterday, including Draco," Fred said. "I've seen all of them in here before. I don't think I've seen anybody new for over a week."

Teddy pressed a hand against his forehead. "Don't you think I know that?" 

* * *

><p>"It's no use." Teddy threw a muffin tin across the room.<p>

"Hey!" Fred shouted as it clattered through him. "Watch where you're throwing things."

Teddy glared at him. "You're dead," he pointed out. "It went right through you."

"I still felt it," Fred informed him.

Teddy pursed his lips and stared. He was never sure when Fred was being serious or not. He could interact with the physical world; he supposed there was no reason why Fred couldn't feel things like muffin trays. Almost unthinkingly, Teddy reached over and chucked a biscuit mould at Fred. The dragon mould fell with a tinkle on the ground.

"I see," Fred said.

Teddy's head shot up. There was no hint of the usual good cheer in Fred's voice. Fred's tone of voice was usually mischievous or happy or cheerful or even teasing.

"You've given up." There was almost a mocking tone in Fred's voice. "I guess you're going to sell the shop now and go back to climb up that corporate ladder and become a good little Ministry sycophant?"

"I don't see that I have any other choice," Teddy pointed out archly. "Unless I want to starve. I'd really prefer not to do that."

"You could always ask for help," Fred suggested.

Teddy spread his hands. "And who should I be asking for help? My numerous friends?" He snorted. Over the years at the Ministry, he had made few friends. The Ministry was conducive to making colleagues, not friends. He could have coffee with his Ministry colleagues, but he certainly couldn't ask them for help. He suspected that most of them would laugh. As for his other friends, well, Teddy had to admit that he probably didn't have any of those any more. He had lost touch with most of his Hogwarts friends over the years he had been scrabbling up the Ministry corporate ladder.

"You could ask Draco Malfoy."

Teddy snorted before he realised that Fred was being serious. "That is quite possibly the most idiotic suggestion I've heard today. I'd rather have singing mice in the store."

"That would be an excellent idea," Fred said dryly. "They could sing about how delicious your brownies are." 

* * *

><p>Draco arched an eyebrow. "I see you're having a closing down sale?"<p>

"The sign does say that," Teddy said under his breath. He looked up and pasted a bright smile on his face. It galled him to go crawling back to the Ministry, but it was better than starving. Fortunately, he was an excellent employee and he wasn't going back to work for Wentworth. That was something. "What would you like today? Your usual?"

"I thought I would go for a chocolate éclair," Draco said smoothly as he placed a few coins on the bench. "You might be terrible at business, but you are a good cook."

Teddy gritted his teeth. "One chocolate éclair, coming right up." He placed the éclair in the bag and handed it across to Draco.

Teddy hoped that Draco would leave after taking his éclair, but it seemed like Draco was determined to peruse the shelves. He watched as Draco took the éclair out of the bag and licked the still-warm chocolate icing. Damn it, Teddy thought. Did the prat need to look so bloody attractive? Was Draco doing it deliberately? Teddy certainly couldn't see any other reason why a bloke would spend so much time licking the chocolate off an éclair.

"I suppose you'll be coming back to the Ministry after this then?" Draco enquired.

"Perhaps," Teddy said shortly. He really didn't want to discuss his personal life with the likes of Draco Malfoy.

Draco brushed a strand of white-blond hair away from his face and took a small bite of his éclair. Teddy gulped as he watched Draco's pink tongue circle the end of the éclair before taking another bite. "I think I might miss this place."

"Start your own bakery then," Teddy said archly. He could just imagine what Fred was going to say about this once Draco had left.

Draco gave him a measured look. "I'll see you tomorrow." It was the first time Draco had acknowledged that he came here regularly.

"I'll be here." Teddy couldn't resist adding, "Until the end of next week anyway."

There was a flicker of something over Draco's face that might have been sadness or it might have simply been indigestion. He pulled open the door of the shop and walked out. Teddy watched as Draco strolled away down the street until he disappeared around a corner.

Teddy sighed. "I can hear you watching, Fred."

A few seconds later, Fred wafted down and hovered on the edge of the counter. "I was not!" he said indignantly. But a few seconds later, he opened his mouth again to add, "You would be good for each other. That man may be a prize git, but he's got some business sense."

"Oh what would you know?" Teddy asked tiredly. He still couldn't believe that Draco kept on coming to his shop, even though he was about to close it down. Were his chocolate éclairs that good? He certainly couldn't see Draco coming out of the goodness of his own heart to support a struggling business.

There was silence for about ten seconds before Fred said quietly, "Life's short, Teddy. Time to take a few risks."

A few risks? Teddy rolled his eyes. He'd already taken a huge risk on this shop and look how that'd turned out. It had been a great big ruddy failure. Sure, it had been fun for the first few weeks. He still enjoyed the blast of hot air when he pulled a fresh tray out of the oven and surveyed the result of his labours, but he needed to actually eat and pay rent. "Life's not _that_ short," he snapped. "I'm not doing to be indebted to Draco Malfoy."

Fred chuckled. "I'm sure you can make up the debt. Draco likes you."

"You couldn't be more wrong."

Fred gave him a mysterious smile. "We who are dead know things like this."

Teddy snorted. The only thing Fred Weasley knew how to do was get on his nerves. But it was true he didn't want to close his shop down and he had already taken a huge risk just by opening the store. It certainly didn't hurt to ask. Well, it didn't hurt anything but his pride, anyway. 

* * *

><p>"A partnership," Draco said slowly. He seemed to roll the word about in his mouth; it was as though he had never heard of the concept before.<p>

"A partnership," Teddy confirmed. "I heard your announcement a few days back about you leaving politics. I'm sure you'll need something to occupy your time."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "And you believe that a running a bakery with _you_ would be a fitting coda to my political career."

Teddy sent a silent curse in Fred's direction for convincing him that this was a good idea. "It's an honest day's work, at least." He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. At times, his mouth had the tendency to speak as though it was completely disconnected from his brain and common sense.

To his surprise, Draco's lips twitched. "I suppose it will surprise some of the constituency."

Seeing the opportunity, Teddy added, "And I know you like my baking. You're always in here. Almost every day, in fact."

"I suppose that's true," Draco said slowly.

From the look on Draco's face, Teddy suddenly wondered whether that was the whole truth. Surely Fred hadn't been right? Draco couldn't _like_ him, could he? It was ridiculous. Teddy swallowed suddenly. He did find Draco rather attractive in the same way he admired dangerous creatures, but he was positive that feeling wasn't reciprocated. "The offer is a limited-time one," he said, suddenly feeling rather uncomfortable.

Draco took a step forward. "I have never been one for charity cases."

"I'll take that as a no then." Teddy felt oddly disappointed. It wasn't as though he actually wanted to work with Draco.

"I didn't say that," Draco said sharply.

"So you do accept the partnership?" Teddy asked.

"I didn't say that either."

Teddy stared. Draco was being very vague, which wasn't like him. "Then what in Merlin's name are you saying?"

Draco pressed his lips together. "I suppose it would be a shame if this bakery closed. The food is ... adequate."

Teddy rolled his eyes internally. Whatever game Draco was playing, he wanted no part in it. His food was more than adequate and Draco knew that. Nobody who scoffed down his éclairs as fast as Draco did would think the food was only adequate. "I'm going to take that as a yes," Teddy said. "Welcome to The Breadbasket, _partner_." 

* * *

><p>Having Draco as his business partner was both easier and harder than what Teddy had expected. The man was a prat, no doubt about it, but he had connections. Once Draco mentioned The Breadbasket casually in conversation a few times with reporters from <em>The Daily Prophet<em>, the shop became almost flooded with customers. Teddy could barely keep up with all the orders that came in. He had to end up getting somebody to serve the customers at the front counter so that he could keep up with all the baking. Still, the customers didn't seem to mind that sometimes the muffins arrived in their hands piping hot straight from the oven.

"Simply superb," one customer said to another customer as she bit into her triple chocolate and cherry muffin. "Best muffin I've had all year."

"Certainly, Mary," her friend agreed. "I can't believe we hadn't heard of this place before!"

Teddy beamed as he put a fresh tray of scones out. This was what he had envisaged when he quit his Ministry job. "Don't forget to take the empty trays out back, Robert," he said to the person who he had got to help out in the shop.

Robert nodded. 

* * *

><p>Teddy was still grinning when he saw Draco slip in through the customers and into the back room. He sighed as he followed. Draco never seemed to interfere much in the day-to-day running of the shop. He just popped by once in a while to collect his daily muffin or scone or éclair and then left. Sometimes though, Teddy found Draco hanging around after closing time. They had even shared a fairly civil cup of coffee together a few days back. As much as Teddy hated to admit it, it looked like Fred was right.<p>

"Anything wrong?" Teddy asked.

Draco turned around with a slightly guilty look on his face as he licked chocolate icing off his fingers.

Teddy stared. "That was from my cake wasn't it?"

"Perhaps," Draco said carefully. "Don't forget who it was that bailed you out of your financial troubles and who helped you get customers."

Teddy took a step forward and then another. He wasn't going to let Draco push him about. It was time to set the boundaries early on. "Yes, but it's my cooking that draws them in." He could see the pulse point in Draco's neck throbbing.

Almost absentmindedly, Draco licked his fingers again and Teddy found his gaze drawn to those long fingers. "Your... cooking is definitely delicious." There was an odd pause in the sentence, almost as though Draco had intended to say something else.

Teddy's breath caught in his throat as he saw Draco look up at him and then look away just as quickly.

His eyes widened. He knew that look. He most definitely knew that look, but he had never expected to see that look directed at him from Draco. It had just been a flicker in Draco's eyes; if Teddy wasn't so sure of himself, he would have thought that it was just his imagination. For one brief moment there, Draco was looking at him as though he, too, was one of the chocolate éclairs that Draco enjoyed devouring so much.

"I believe I should be going now," Draco said rapidly.

Teddy smiled inwardly. "Of course," he agreed. He couldn't believe it.

"I'll be back later tonight though," Draco added. "To go over some accounts, add some figures together. Things like that." He sounded almost awkward.

"Certainly," Teddy said. He watched as Draco turned around, swirled his black robes around him, and left the room. "I will see you tonight," he called.

This was definitely a change, Teddy mused as he reached over to swirl some icing over some cupcakes that had been set out to cool. A very surprising change, but not necessarily a bad change. Draco wasn't his usual type, but Teddy admitted that he was attractive. Definitely attractive. His cock twitched at the thought of Draco licking chocolate sauce off him like he had licked chocolate sauce off the éclair.

It also showed that he was right. This partnership wasn't out of the goodness of Draco's heart. There was definitely an ulterior motive. Teddy paused and groaned. It also showed that Fred was right.

Damn it.

He was never going to live that one down. 

* * *

><p>"Told you," Fred said smugly.<p>

"Oh shut up," Teddy told him. A flying pot flew through Fred and hit the wall behind him. "It doesn't change anything. Not a single thing." Fred may have been right about a lot of things, but that didn't mean he was going to be right about this.

Fred smirked. "Just wait, young Theodore Lupin. Just you wait."

-fin


End file.
